A Great Man
by LienaGrace
Summary: What really makes a great man? Moriarty toys with John's mind before the showdown at the pool.


Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used and am not making a profit from this story. No pairings. Only friendship/bromance intended between John and Sherlock.

**A Great Man**

John awoke to a terrible headache and a large weight on his chest. As he slowly picked himself up off the floor, his still recovering eyes caught sight of a dark figure approaching from the shadows. His face came into view, but it took the doctor a moment to realize he was the man Molly had introduced as her boyfriend. Jim from IT. It was him, but he looked so different. He had a sinister air about him. John felt it. And then he knew.

Jim stopped a few feet from him. He gave a mock bow. "Sir Galahad," he said. "You're finally awake."

"How could you lie to Molly? She didn't deserve this."

"You're worried about that imbecile who couldn't even remember your name?" Jim's voice took on a slightly higher pitch.

"Why did you murder all of those people?" John asked. He still felt disoriented and unsteady on his feet.

His captor shrugged. "I was bored."

John realized that sounded disturbingly familiar even as he glared at Jim and took a menacing step towards him.

The other man pointed at his chest. "I wouldn't if I were you. Do you see that red light? I'd prefer to wait until Sherlock gets here before I have to kill you."

John stopped. "You're bringing him here?"

Jim grinned. "Actually, he invited me. And he's bringing the missile defense plans." He studied his captive's face. "Ohhh. Did he lie to you?"

John couldn't help looking away. "Mr. Moriarty..."

"So polite," the dark haired man cut him off. "You really are pure of heart. So why are you hanging around a questionable character like Sherlock Holmes?"

"Sherlock's not..." the doctor began but stopped short.

Moriarty smiled at him again and leaned forward. "You know, I've been watching Sherlock for a long time."

"Honestly, that sounds just a little creepy."

"I know everything there is to know about him," his kidnapper continued, ignoring him. "I can predict every move he'll make. He was going to become boring after a while. But there was one thing I didn't factor in." He caught the doctor's eye. "You."

"Me?" John almost took a step back.

"He's different now. Ever since you came along. Little changes. Small at first." He wiggled his fingers in the air. "Before, I thought he was like me. But no. It's more interesting now."

"What do you mean?"

Moriarty threw him an annoyed look over his shoulder and then ignored him again. "He is brilliant, isn't he? But it's only thanks to you that he's starting to get the recognition he deserves. Your blog has become quite popular." He pointed to his own chest. "I'm a big fan. It gets more traffic than his own web site, you know?"

John crossed his arms over his chest as well as he could and ran his tongue over his dried lips.

Moriarty studied him for a moment. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Yes, he's starting to get the recognition he deserves. But what about you? You're a soldier. A war hero. But if you become known at all, it'll be as his assistant. Wouldn't you rather write about your own adventures?"

"What are you getting at?" The doctor's patience was wearing thin. The bomb strapped to his chest and the sniper ready to shoot him weren't nearly as bad as listening to this madman.

"Would you like to go back to Afghanistan?"

"What?"

"I can arrange it. There are ways. You can go back to your comrades over there and be a hero in your own right. Maybe collect a few more medals."

John took this all in. "How?"

Moriarty glared at him impatiently. "I said I have my ways. Whether you really want it or not." In a flash, his expression turned disturbingly playful. "It doesn't really matter, I guess. As long as we get you away from Sherlock Holmes."

"Are you really that afraid of my so-called influence over him?"

Moriarty snorted. "I'm only trying to help you out. Preserve your image."

John sighed and rolled his eyes. "What about my image?"

"Sir Galahad was the purest and most worthy of the knights. But do you know what happened to his portrayal over the years? Goodness is boring, you see. So in an attempt to make him more interesting, current depictions have given him flaws. Made him arrogant, stuck up, haughty. But it didn't work. He's still not as interesting as the great Lancelot. The same thing will happen to you. You'll be forgotten in the shadow of Sherlock Holmes."

"You think I care about that?"

Moriarty's lips broke into a slow smile. "John, you're an action junkie. You want to be the hero, not the sidekick. You want to be that James Bond type. How would you rather be remembered? As Dr. John Watson, the brave, intelligent, and calm war hero who fought for his country and saved lives because of his medical knowledge? Or as the foolish, simple, idiot who followed Sherlock Holmes around like a puppy dog and couldn't keep up with his massive intellect?"

John snorted and shook his head.

"Oh, _I_ know you're not an idiot. You're much more intelligent than the average man. You're the best of the normal people. More than normal even. You see, Dr. Watson, you are a great man in your own right, but Sherlock Holmes can make great men look like fools."

John closed his eyes for a moment. "Are you done?" When Moriarty only stared back at him, he continued, "It doesn't matter. The world may not remember me as a great man, but I will be remembered by a great man. Even if I die here, Mr. Moriarty, he will defeat you."

For a moment, his captor looked as if he would throw a temper tantrum. Then he yawned loudly and began to walk away.

_He's gotten bored with me_, John realized.

Moriarty turned on his heel just as he was about to leave the room. He bowed deeply to the doctor once more. "Goodbye, Sir Galahad."


End file.
